


Breaking Boundaries

by der_tanzer



Series: Between Carson and King Harbor [6]
Category: Emergency!, Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-17
Updated: 2011-08-17
Packaged: 2017-10-22 17:43:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/240805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny wants to know what all the fuss is about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Boundaries

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty straightforward PWP.

“I don’t know what I think about this,” Johnny said with a nervous laugh. Murray leaned down and kissed him, smiling slyly.

“We don’t have to do it,” he said, as if it didn’t matter.

“No, no, I want to.” There was a little bit of defensiveness in his tone, just a hint of _if you can do it, I can_ , and Murray’s smile widened. “I’m just not sure I love that look on your face.”

“But you love me,” Murray said, arching his eyebrows.

“You know I do.”

He took that as confirmation of consent and opened the lube. Johnny looked up at him, squirming a little on the pillow beneath his hips, started to bring his knees together and then didn’t. He flinched when Murray touched him, the tip of his finger slick and cool against his virgin hole, but when Murray looked up, his face was still. Only his wide, almost fearful, eyes indicated that he was on foreign ground here. Murray shifted and bent down again, kissing Johnny’s chest this time, flicking his tongue across pointed nipples. He could feel the stress in his lover’s body and went on describing slow circles with his fingertip until Johnny finally hooked an arm around his neck in encouragement. Only then did he try to press inside.

This time the flinch was more noticeable, a tensing of his entire body coupled with a gasp of surprise. Murray refrained from progressing but didn’t withdraw. He kissed Johnny softly on the lips and then slid down to lick across the head of his cock. Johnny flinched again, accidentally pushing the tentative finger deeper, and Murray gave a gentle suck to distract him. But Johnny was more than distracted—he was completely confused. His hand curled instinctively into a fist in Murray’s hair as he thrust up into his mouth, but his mind and body were equally puzzled as to what to do about the rest. When Murray drew his finger back, he found himself starting to follow before the fear returned. Murray teased and coaxed, sucking him slow and sloppy the way he liked, and gradually he relaxed into the gentle probe. It was still scary and he was still confused, but that peculiar burning pleasure/pain drew him.

“Is that okay?” Murray whispered raising his head. The hand in his hair tightened briefly and Johnny groaned a soft _yes_. “Then I can do this?” he asked, sliding his finger deeper. He took the resulting wordless sound as permission and delicately persisted, finding Johnny’s prostate and turning him to jelly.

“That sounds okay,” Murray said and sucked briefly on his flagging erection. Johnny cried out, thrusting roughly against the back of his throat, but Murray was expecting that and took it easily. What he didn’t expect was for Johnny to pull his head back by his hair and force him to let go. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, starting to withdraw his hand. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he panted, but he didn’t loosen his grip. “But if I did, would you?”

“Would—of course I would. I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want.”

“Do you want to fuck me?” he asked bluntly, running his free hand over Murray’s face, tracing the bones of his skull with his thumb.

“You’re not ready for that,” Murray said, leaning into the questing hand.

“Do you want to or not?” Johnny persisted. Murray recognized that tone and bit his thumb lightly before replying.

“I want to, but it’s still too soon. You’ve never done it before, and I’ve never been anyone’s first. I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“That’s a bad reason, baby. Unless you’re planning on doing another virgin first, or passing me off on a pro, it’ll always be ‘too soon’.”

“Oh, like I’d let anyone else touch you,” Murray laughed. He bit Johnny’s hand again, harder this time, and then twisted his head away. Johnny let him go and crossed his arms behind his head, trusting that something good was going to happen. Murray was more full of surprises than anyone he’d ever met, and over the last six months Johnny had decided they were all good.

He didn’t question that assessment, even when Murray’s surprise turned out to be a second well-lubed finger. He flinched more subtly than the first time and bit his lower lip to hold back a moan. It came out a heavy nasal sigh, so like the sounds he made when he was the one doing the penetrating and enjoying it very much. But his erection was wilting again, telling Murray that he was still feeling more stress than pleasure. Murray leaned down and licked up the length of his shaft, earning another sighing moan. He slid his long fingers deeper, finding the tender gland and massaging it firmly as Johnny began to rock against him. Murray felt the shift from tolerance to enjoyment and spread his fingers just a little to intensify the sensations. Johnny groaned, pressed down harder, and then froze.

“Is something wrong?” Murray whispered.

“Stop,” he said simply, his voice low and strained. “Murray, baby…”

In an instant, the pleasing fingers were gone and Murray was sitting up, searching his face for signs of fear or pain. He was wearing his contacts, a must for this adventure when so much relied on subtle gestures and fleeting expressions, but all he saw was Johnny’s cocky, crooked little grin.

“What…?”

“You were serious,” he said, still grinning. But there was something else in his eyes. Something sentimental and almost awed.

“Serious about what?” Murray asked, baffled.

“You stopped when I asked you to.”

“You didn’t ask, you told me. And of course I did. Johnny, not stopping is rape. You know that, right?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he confessed, his grin starting to slip. “I didn’t mean to insult you or anything, I just—I got nervous. It was starting to feel really good and I was afraid that if I lost my head, I might, you know—lose it.”

“So you needed to test me,” Murray said, not asking.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, and now he was starting to grin, too. “I did the same to—well, everyone I slept with. Now, do you want to keep going or should I be the one getting the lube job?”

“Keep going,” Johnny said, his grin unable to disguise the hint of desperation behind the words.

“Are you sure?”

“Baby, tell me something. Why do you like it?”

“Why do I like what? Doing this?” As he spoke, Murray smiled and reapplied the lube. He worked up to three fingers, advancing in cautious thrusts and spreading them a little more with each retreat. Johnny moaned, one hand clutching Murray’s hip and squeezing spasmodically.

“Ah, no,” Johnny sighed, trying to fight the distraction. “Why do you like it when I do it to you? What—what’s so great about—oh, god, baby…”

“Well, there’s that,” Murray giggled, rubbing his gland in slow, firm strokes. “I love when you do that. But what I really love is when you’re on top of me, inside me, using your entire body to bring us together. It’s the most amazing thing, feeling how strong you are and how hard you try to curb yourself. I love knowing that I’m as close to you as anyone can be, feeling your pulse beat inside my body and sharing every sensation as you experience it. That, in short, is what’s so great about it.”

“Then share it with me.”

“I do, remember? I’m the guy doing all the moaning and writhing.”

“Yeah, I like that. But I want to feel those things you’re talking about, too.”

“It’ll hurt,” Murray said, almost sadly. He spread his fingers a little more and Johnny winced, his breath catching in his chest. It was sad because Murray wanted it, too, and Johnny didn’t seem to know what he was asking. This night, which had started out so well, was threatening to end in disappointment for both of them.

“I trust you,” Johnny murmured, his voice strained.

“You shouldn’t. I told you, it’ll hurt.”

“You’ve trusted me to do a lot of things that hurt, and I doubt any of them felt this good.”

“That was all necessary. This is just for fun. Fun shouldn’t hurt.”

“Later on, after you’re done making love to me, I’m going to argue very persuasively against that point.”

“I’m sure you will,” Murray sighed. He delved a little deeper, noted the progress they’d made, and decided he could try. Johnny would surely change his mind, but Murray didn’t think it’d hurt too much first. “Do you want to turn over for me?”

“Finally, the man sees reason,” he laughed. It turned to a groan as Murray withdrew his hand, and then he was rolling over, moving quickly before he could change his mind. Murray guided him into position and checked again to be sure he was still ready. Now that the moment was at hand, he found himself wanting it in spite of his justified reservations. And that was probably his biggest fear—the regret he would feel when Johnny told him to stop.

Murray stroked himself for a moment with slickly lubed fingers, bringing his simmering arousal to a boil. He set the head of his cock against the virgin hole, now wet and sweetly welcoming. Johnny tensed at the pressure, suddenly afraid. But he had been afraid of new things before and it had never turned him back.

“Is that all right?” Murray asked, half teasing. His free hand wandered over Johnny’s back, tracing the outlines of muscle and bone, and Johnny was soothed by his presence, by the simple reality of him; and knowing that the member pressing into him was controlled by the same person who owned the hand on his back made it possible to relax. Murray felt the tension ease, opening his lover’s body to him, and pushed forward in miniscule increments.

The pressure surrounding him, so much hotter and tighter than he’d remembered, made it difficult for Murray to restrain himself, but Johnny reminded him with soft groans and sporadic twitches that he needed to be kind. As kind as he’d ever been before, and that was saying a lot.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t stop?” he whispered when Johnny bit off a particularly high-pitched, whining moan.

“I’m sure,” his lover gasped out in return, “that if you keep asking me that, I’m never gonna sleep with you again.”

“Talk about an easy choice,” Murray said quietly. But all it really meant was that he’d have to stop without asking when it got too difficult.

Only it didn’t. With half his length buried inside, it suddenly seemed to get easier. He pulled back and thrust freely, keeping it short and gentle, and Johnny relaxed, rocking with him. Every thrust sent him deeper and Johnny took it without complaint, only altering the pitch of his moans to encourage and warn by turns. Murray was patient, pausing and sometimes withdrawing a bit when Johnny’s heavy breathing turned to a whine.

At first, John was ashamed of the sounds he made. The pleading and the fear made him feel weak. But as the pain decreased, he began to focus on Murray and to understand why his lover wanted this so often. He could feel _everything_. Murray’s heart beat against his back, fast and steady, and Johnny felt his pulse in every part of his body. Sweat gathered between them, running down his back, and Murray’s desperate moans were all that he could hear.

The pleasure still wasn’t quite what he’d expected, but Murray’s hard shaft against his gland was nice, and his demanding passion was even better. Best of all was Murray’s skilled hand slipping beneath him, stroking and fondling until his hesitant erection returned, harder than before. He thrust into the tight fist and Murray followed, driving deep, both of them crying out together.

“Sorry,” Murray gasped, thinking it had hurt.

“’T’s okay,” Johnny groaned, hands fisting helplessly in his pillow. “God, baby, don’t stop now.” He was shaking his head, a gesture Murray couldn’t parse in this context, and his shaggy hair stuck to Murray’s face.

Murray felt it coming, the itching, tickling wave of ecstasy lapping around the edges of his central nervous system, and didn’t know if he should try to fend it off or let it come. He moaned his confused frustration against Johnny’s shoulder and instantly the body beneath him tensed and began to move faster, making the decision for him. He bit the smoothly muscled shoulder blade to hold back his cries as he came, aware of nothing but the heat that enveloped him.

He was still pressing instinctively for depth and warmth and sensation, desperate for more and more things to feel even as he shuddered with release, and suddenly it was there. Johnny reached back over his shoulder and gripped Murray’s neck, strong fingers digging in as his own climax overtook him. Murray whined softly at the exquisite torture of his lover’s ass clenching his over-sensitive cock, and Johnny reacted to the sound by squeezing harder, leaving bruises on his neck that would last for a week.

But that didn’t hurt. At least not in a way Murray cared about. He realized dimly that this was important, this first time that Johnny had ever opened himself to another, and to achieve an orgasm on that occasion was even more so. Without fully internalizing all of the complexities, he still knew this was a celebration and responded with joyful attention to the pulsing shaft in his hand. Johnny’s frantic, gibbering sounds of need and satisfaction sent a thrill down Murray’s spine and took the sting out of being shaken off so quickly when the spasm had passed. For a moment they lay side by side, breathing hard without trying to speak, Murray’s hand on Johnny’s bicep the only indication that they weren’t two strangers mysteriously dropped onto one bed. Then Murray cleared his throat and gave it a shot.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Johnny said. “I’m fine.” But he sounded a little nervous.

“Good. Good, I’m glad. I—I wasn’t too rough on you at the end?”

“No, Murray, it was fine. I—um—I’m just gonna go take a shower. I’ll be right back.”

Murray guessed from the wording that he wasn’t invited and reached for the wet-naps as Johnny rose and left the room. It was hard not to be a little bit offended—after all, he’d thought it was pretty special—but John was a funny guy in a lot of ways. Overly-sensitive but quick to forget. Murray cleaned himself up and put on his shorts, then went out to the kitchen for a glass of water. He drank it standing at the sink, mindful of the windows, and washed the glass when he was done. Then he just stood there, feeling the cool linoleum under his feet, the chill air drying the sweat on his back, not thinking about anything except that Johnny was probably doing this, too. Not thinking.

“There you are. What’s going on, Murray?”

He turned around to see his lover in the hall, a towel wrapped around his waist, running his hand through dark, wet hair.

“Nothing. Are you okay?”

“I told you, I’m fine,” he said, and this time it sounded true. “Why are you standing there getting cold? Hop in the shower and then come back to bed. I’ll change the sheets—it’ll just take a minute.”

Murray nodded agreement, suddenly realizing how cold he really was. A hot shower and a warm bed sounded pretty good.


End file.
